Sandman Horror Novels & Stories

It was a scream the kind that summons every sleeping soul, begging it to awaken and witness the nightmare with her. She stumbled backward, clutching the curtain as if to draw it shut and shield her from the horrific image. But it was too late. The scene was etched in her memory: Sid, a lifeless doll, hanging in death, his head bowed, his blood soaking the seat and cascading down the stone passage like a river of hell.

Samantha "Arachne's poison" Hope. "Banshee ectoplasm." Samantha. "Liquid black fire." Hope. "Water from the River Caronte." Samantha. "Demon Essence of the Fifth Circle." Hope. "The worst, blue fire diluted into green fire." Samantha. "Never again. Definitely never again." I shuddered, remembering the feeling. "Man, never again! Did I mention I don't want to meet Lord Nosferatu anymore? It was enough to piss him off slightly."

But we pressed on, our breaths held tight, our hearts pounding against our chests. With each step, we could sense the presence of danger lurking in the shadows. The sound of our footsteps echoed through the vastness of the empty space, amplifying the tension that hung heavy in the air. Our senses heightened, every creak, every gust of wind, registering in our minds as potential threats or revelations. Suddenly, a voice resonated through the silence, chilling our bones. "So, you've come to save your precious Athro," Samantha's voice dripped with venom, her presence materializing from the darkness. "You're too late. He's mine now to kill."

Halfway in, big black letters jump out. VEMOD. “Dominate vessels, take any face, any voice. Feeds on fear and lust. My hands go ice cold but then I hear footsteps in the hall. I shove the book inside my shirt, tuck it in my waistband, and stand just as the door opens. Samantha steps in carrying dirty sheets. She freezes when she sees me. “Oh. I thought the room was empty. I came to get the laundry.” I don’t move. “Just finishing up.”

The horizon was a jagged smear of charcoal gray and bruised violet. For three years, I had walked toward it, guided by nothing but the rumors whispered in the hushed, terrified voices of dying scavengers. They spoke of a place that held the line, a fortress of humanity amidst the rotting sprawl of the walking dead. They called it "Haven."

It sucks. 4: Hiro - Demons and Shin

"Boss Spynx is looking for you ma'am, come and let's go home __" "Why would he bother to look for me? Didn't he just leave me at the auction venue!" She immediately protested with sarcasm and annoyance. There was a look of shock on their faces because of what River had said. River was unaware that Spencer was just on the doorstep. So her eyes almost widened when she glanced at the young man behind Troy. She could see the darkness that enveloped Spencer's whole being which sent horror all over his body. "A__ I __" "Let's get back to my mansion!" Spencer commanded coldly as ice. Thus River gives her the reason to be even more terrified and feel afraid of him.

She began. For the first time, fear flashed in Sandra's eyes. "Wh-- What is going on, Mena?" "Oh, it's nothing to be scared of, please trust me, okay?" She rushed to reassure her friend. "O-Okay." Sandra still looked unconvinced. "Good. Do you remember those novels you like to read? Those ones where men turn into werewolves, vampires, and all those kinds of stuff?" "You mean my paranormal books? How can I ever forget about them? I have two in my bag as we speak." She paused, "But, what has that got to do with anything?"

Modern, furnished and beautiful and looking new everyday although the house was five years old already. Juana's coffee was transparent, lot of water,lot of sugar, no milk. So she could see her face while sipping at it. Her big blue eyes were a bit undefined, her expression showed fear with a mixture of helplessness and unusual calm. Then the dream came again. Avocado. Garden. Branch. Third branch. Corpse dripping with blood. Loose. Screaming. Empty House. Dream. "Oh my goodness" she sighed, dropping her half empty mug. She tried to make meaning out of it, but it was a little creepy..

A lullaby hums in a voice not your own Sung from the mouths of the buried and dead A faceless thing grins in the wide doorway Stretching its arms, your escort inside Your name is etched on a tomb with no grave A jagged whisperer, an icy brace Your heart beats loud, but not for long Run, run, but your feet won't move The darkness wraps its chains around you I said grin forms in the blackest shade Time runs out, and so will your veins The bells don't toll; the clocks don't chime Only the sound of the end of time Your Shadow melts your hands turn cold The nightmare sings as it takes hold I'm sorry to say, but this is the end Your breath is stolen; no need to pretend A door creaks open; the void